THE HEN-YARD DOOR.
When careless Tommy fed the fowls,
He did not shut the door;
Out came the rooster and the hens;
Out came the pullets four;
Out came old Speckle-wings, with six
Bewitching little Bantam chicks.
At once the hens began to cluck,
The cock began to crow,
And here and there, and everywhere,
They seemed possessed to go;
They pecked the turnips; in a patch
Of spinach they began to scratch:
And when to drive them in we tried
They straightway to our neighbors hied.
Upon our right, a new-made lawn
Was just with grass-seed sown;
Upon our left, a garden-plot
With pinks and lilies shone.
In rushed our right-hand neighbor's son,
With flaming face, and said,
"'Shut up your hens,' my father says,
Or he will shoot them dead."
Our left-hand neighbor wrote a note,—
"I all the spring have toiled
To rear the lovely flowers I find
Your roving fowls have spoiled."
To get them home, the livelong day
We tried, till evening gathered gray:
Then back to roost returned the cock,
But some were missing from his flock.
Four hens were with him; where were two?
Perhaps our right-hand neighbor knew!
Back came the pullets, having fed
On dainty pinks, and roses red;
Back came old Speckle; of her six
The cat had caught three little chicks.
We shut the door, and made it fast;
We all were glad the day was past:
We'd lost our hens, and lost our friends;
Our neighbors smile no more;
And all because our careless Tom
Forgot to shut the door!
MARIAN DOUGLAS.
